Break the Same
by pinkhairdontcare
Summary: A/U. In the long wake of tragedy, what remains of Lightning's family unit quickly unravels. SnowxLight, HopexLight. Warnings inside.
1. Lightning

**Title: **Break the Same

**Rating: **M for language and sex.

**Summary: **A/U. "Lines blur when you have nothing left to lose. The degradation was so slow that it was almost imperceptible, and by the time I realized it, it was too late for us." In the long wake of tragedy, what remains of Lightning's family unit slowly unravels. SnowxLight, HopexLight. Warnings inside.

**About the setting:** As with my previous stories, it takes place in a modern day universe much like our own, completely separate from the game. Pulse and Cocoon are two individual countries on the planet. All the locations from the game (Bodhum, Eden, Oerba, etc) are cities/towns.

**Warning: **In this story, Lightning is 23, Snow is 25, and Hope is 17. Depending on one's definition, Lightning's eventual relationship with Hope could be construed as sexual assault. If this disturbs or triggers you in any way, PLEASE DO NOT READ! In this story, age of consent IS 17 (and also where I'm from) so _technically_ no harm no foul, but again, if it is something you are bothered by, then don't read.

**Notes: **This story was inspired in part by the fact that Hope is 14 in appearance in Lightning Returns and all the ensuing drama among HopeRai fans. (I'm not a sicko, I swear.) I don't plan on this story being all that long. It's just a bit of an interlude from Damaged People.

**1. Lightning**

_I think the dryer is broken. Had the sheets in there and it was working for like 30 min and quit. _

The car behind Lightning's gave an angry honk. Lightning's head snapped up from Snow's text message on her phone; seeing the traffic light was green, she hit the gas. Her battered car lurched forward, quickly putting distance between her and the impatient driver behind her as she made her way downtown through the late August rain to the plasma donation center.

_Please don't be crowded_, she thought.

Of course, it was packed.

She waited for nearly twenty minutes before a technician finally came to prick her finger to check her her protein and iron levels. Two days ago, her iron had been too low to donate. After another twenty minutes, she was informed the same thing.

"Happens when you donate too much in a short time window," the tech told her. "Are you eating okay at home?"

_Of course I'm not. Why the hell would I be here if I was?_

"Thank you," she muttered, and left.

She frequented the donation center so much that she would figure they'd know her on sight. But considering the volume of traffic that marched through those doors for what amounted to pennies, she supposed not. At this point, she was only getting $15 a visit, but she could stretch that $15. Some into the gas tank, the rest to a shitty dinner. But this was the second time in a row that she'd been denied - she really needed that $15. Snow fetched a bit more because he was a lot bigger, netting as much as $50 every time he went.

"This is my life," she said to her worn steering wheel. "Letting a bunch of high school drop outs put needles in me for pocket change."

As she drove through what was arguably the worst part of Bodhum, a kid of fifteen or sixteen on the sidewalk caught her eye. He was slender figure, and dirty; a shiny fall of platinum hair curtained his face as he huddled beside a house, trying to find shelter from the rain under the overhang. As she watched, he leaned over and vomited what looked like a small amount of blood.

Alarmed, she slowed her car to a stop and leaned across the passenger seat, rolling the window down. "Hey!" she shouted to the kid.

He jerked his head up, giving her wide eyes. Wiping his mouth, he dashed away behind the house.

She waited a minute to see if he came back out, but he didn't. Frowning, she rolled the window back up and continued into the suburbs to the townhouse that she couldn't actually afford to live where there would be a broken dryer waiting that she couldn't actually afford to get fixed.

Snow stood in the kitchen, scraping a blackened mass off a baking sheet and into the trash can. Lightning wrinkled her nose at the burnt smell that permeated the room. "What _was _that?"

"Leftover chicken," Snow said, dumping the pan into the sink and dousing it with dish soap. His blonde locks fell into his eyes as he bent over the sink. "I forgot about it while I was tinkering with the dryer. I'm sorry."

Lightning didn't have the energy to be angry. She dumped her bag on the kitchen table and sank into a chair, rubbing her eyes.

"I got it working again, though," he added helpfully. "For now."

"Cool. One less thing to worry about. For now." Her stomach rumbled.

"Did you donate plasma today?" Snow asked, rummaging around in the fridge.

"No," she answered. "Iron too low again."

"Oh," Snow said. After a moment of silence, he added, "Well, I was hoping we could get flowers for Serah's -"

"No," Lightning cut him off.

"Oh," Snow said again, then fell silent.

Lightning buried her face in her arms. "Shit should not be this hard," she mumbled.

"You know, some days I think of just robbing a bank or something." Snow fingered the pendant at his throat. "I just kinda bask in that fantasy for a little while. I mean, even if I got arrested, at least I'd have a roof over my head and some food, right?"

Lightning thought of the kid she saw earlier and frowned again. She pushed her chair back and stood. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Oh…okay." Snow scratched at his stubble. "Well, I'm making mac and cheese. You're gonna come down and eat, right?"

"Yeah. I will." She went upstairs and into her bedroom. She peeled off her clothes and dumped them into the hamper, then went into the bathroom to start the shower. Without bothering to wait for the water to warm up, she stepped in. The water bill was high enough without running the water to a comfortable temperature, even though she was fairly sure there wasn't a much worse feeling than an unwanted cold shower.

By the time she got out, she wasn't hungry anymore.

She brushed out her wet hair, pulled on a loose shirt, and fell into bed. Groping for the covers, she pulled them over her head. _Never mind the fact it's only eight PM. _

Lightning didn't remember falling asleep, but she woke as the mattress dipped under Snow's weight as he slid in. He pulled the covers off her head and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Don't leave." He pressed his face against hers, his bristly face tickling her cheek.

She didn't acknowledge him, but she didn't push him away either.

She didn't remember when he started sleeping in her bed, but she didn't disabuse him of doing it, either. His comforting weight against her back helped her sleep these days. She'd probably miss him if she kicked him out now.

He always said the same thing when he came to bed._ I'm sorry, don't leave. _Sorry for what? Where would she go, anyway?

Lightning watched beads of rain make patterns on the window, the droplets reflecting the light of the street lamps.

She got up early in the morning. Snow was still asleep, the sheet tangled around his bare torso. She saw a sliver of tanned skin and fought the urge to touch it as she always did, because Snow was her sister's fiancé.

She pulled shorts on and stumbled downstairs, running her fingers through her hair. She stuck her head into the mostly empty fridge and saw a small bowl of mac and cheese. For breakfast, why not?

She was too hungry to stick it in the microwave; her stomach was so hollow it felt like a literal hole in her body. She wolfed it down cold and washed the bowl out in the sink. Then she grabbed her car keys and left the house.

It was too early head to donate, but she found herself driving aimlessly through the bad part of town again. She couldn't get that kid out of her head.

_What are you gonna do if you find him, huh? Take him to the hospital? Bring him to your house and offer him a warm meal? "Hey kid, want some day old macaroni and cheese made with expired milk?" What a fucking joke._

She parked her car on the side of the street she found him at before and got out, pocketing her keys. Even this early in the morning, a few hooded figures lurked at the street corner, jeering at her as she walked down the sidewalk. Ignoring them while simultaneously hoping her car would still have its wheels when she returned, she came to the house he'd escaped behind.

She hadn't realized it then, but the house was abandoned. Up close, she could see how dilapidated it was, even for a house in a bad part of town. There was a "no trespassing" sign erected in one of the windows, covered in a fine film of dust.

Lightning tried the badly peeling front door, but it was locked. She walked around the side of the house and into the overgrown backyard. The long grass was still wet from the rain, clinging to her bare legs as she waded through it and onto the back porch. One of the windows was broken. She tried the back door, hoping she could avoid the glass, but it was locked as well. With a sigh, she pulled the sleeves of her shirt over her hands to protect them and gingerly straddled the window frame. She scraped her inner thighs on the jagged, sharp pieces of glass that were still embedded in the frame and dropped to the floor inside. She wiped away the blood beading on her skin and looked around, her eyes adjusting to the dim interior.

Boot prints in the dust led upstairs, and she followed them, trying to be as quiet as the creaking staircase would allow her. She knew that this was probably one of her worst ideas to date - there was no evidence that those footprints belonged to the particular kid she was looking for. Chances are it was probably some other homeless tweaker who would be less than benevolent about her intrusion.

There was only one room upstairs, and the door was shut. Lightning furtively turned the knob, but it was locked as well. She bit back a curse and pressed her ear to the door. She could hear someone scurrying in there.

She rapped on the door. "Hey," she called. "I know you're in there. Might as well open up."

There was no answer. She waited another minute, then tried again. "Look, I'm not going to turn you in or whatever. C'mon." She paused, then added, "I want to help."

She could hear him breathing on the other side of the door. Finally, the knob turned and opened inward. Luminous green eyes met hers, framed by unwashed silver hair. His lips were chapped and peeling. The left side of his face was swollen and mottled with purple bruises.

"You…I saw you yesterday," he said hoarsely. "In the car."

"Yeah." She folded her arms. "What are you doing?"

He sized her up. She could practically see his mind racing, weighing his options. His eyes lit on the cuts on her legs. "You're bleeding."

"It's fine. How old are you?"

He licked his lips. "I'm…eighteen."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, seventeen. I'll be eighteen in January."

She wasn't sure if that was true either, but she let it go for the moment. "Where's your parents?"

He swallowed. "Gone."

"Are you sick?"

He gave her a weird look. "No…?"

"I saw you puking up blood yesterday."

"No, that wasn't…it wasn't vomit." He gestured to his bruised face. "Wrong place, wrong time. Spitting the blood out."

Lightning thought of the hoodlums outside, and seethed. She held out her hand. "Come."

He stared at her outstretched fingers like they were a particularly huge and disgusting spider. "Come where? Are you going to report me to child services or something?"

"I don't know what I'm gonna do, but you can't hole up in an abandoned house. Someone's going to find you eventually, and they will for sure report you to someone. Besides, you could use a shower."

The kid smiled in spite of himself. "That much is true," he said. "Hold on." He ducked back inside the room, and returned with a duffel bag. "My stuff," he said. "What's left of it."

Lightning led him down the stairs and out the front door after unlocking it. Luckily there wasn't anyone around to care, though it had started raining again. The hooded kids were nowhere to be seen, but her car was still intact. She unlocked the passenger side door and he got in carefully, as if he was afraid of touching anything or taking up too much space.

"What's your name?" she asked him when she got in the driver's seat.

"Hope," he said. "It's Hope."

The irony of it was not lost on her. "I'm Lightning."

"Lightning?" He gave her a skeptical look.

She shrugged one shoulder. "My legal name."

"But not your _real _name."

She silenced him with a look. He looked like he wanted to ask more, but he didn't.

Snow was gone when they got back to her house. He'd left a note next to a bowl of apples.

_Went to donate. Neighbor's grandkids have an apple tree and she was feeling generous. -Snow_

Of course Snow had managed to charm someone into giving him food. She smiled slightly to herself.

She looked over her shoulder at Hope. His face looked a lot worse in the light. He was looking around the kitchen, though he didn't seem particularly awestruck. "They didn't knock out a tooth, did they?" she asked him.

He gave her a blank look, then realized what she meant. Probing the inside of his mouth with his tongue, he replied, "No. Just have a big cut on my cheek."

"That's good. What do you want first, food or a shower?"

"Shower," was his immediate response.

He followed her upstairs and to the spare bedroom's bathroom and turned on the shower. "Takes awhile for the water to warm up," she told him. As much as she winced internally about running the water that long, she wasn't going to make what appeared to be his first shower in weeks be a cold one. "I'll be right back." She went to the hall closet and pulled out a towel, an old bar of soap and a half-empty bottle of shampoo.

He accepted the bundle from her when she returned, hugging it to his chest. "Thank you," he said.

"Sure. I'll make your something to eat in the meantime."

The front door opened as she came down the stairs. Snow walked through the foyer, his arms full of bags.

"Food," he announced.

Lightning folded her arms. "That's a lot of food for fifty bucks."

Snow put them down in the kitchen and started sorting the food. "I took some stuff to the pawn shop, too," he said.

"Like what?"

"Like my engagement pendant." He touched his throat absently, where it used to hang.

"You _what_?" Lightning slammed her hand down on the kitchen counter.

Snow looked up in surprise. "What? What's wrong?"

"How could you sell that?"

"It's just a necklace."

"No it's not! You know that, you idiot." He continued to put the groceries away in silence. "Snow," she said, her throat tight.

"What?"

"You've really given up on her, haven't you? You think she's dead."

The shower upstairs cut off audibly. Snow looked to the ceiling and frowned. "Who's here?" He looked at Lightning suspiciously, then saw the cuts on her legs. "What happened to you? Who the fuck is here?" She could hear the panic rising in his voice.

"Some homeless kid," she said. "I sort of found him."

He gave her a disbelieving look. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"You just picked some kid off the street like a stray dog or something?"

"More or less, except he's a human being."

"Lightning. What are we gonna do with some kid?"

She folded her arms across her chest. "We'll figure something out. It's not forever." He stared at her in angry silence. "What is your fucking problem?" she demanded.

"Because we can really afford another mouth to feed? A higher water bill?" He jabbed a finger at the ceiling for emphasis. "What were you thinking?"

In that moment Lightning was struck by two things: the first being that she was surprised that amiable, super hero Snow was that mad that she'd impulsively rescued some teenager off the street, regardless of how bad of an idea it was. It was something that he would be far more likely to do than her. The second thing was that she couldn't remember the last time he had called her "sis", as he had been wont to do in almost the entire time she'd known him.

Hope came down the stairs then in a clean though wrinkled shirt and jeans. His hair was damp, clinging to his face and neck. He saw Snow and hesitated, his face wary, standing slightly behind Lightning.

"This is Hope," Lightning said, giving Snow a pointed look.

To his credit, he gave Hope a generous smile, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Hey, bud."

"Hey," Hope said, his eyes darting between him and Lightning. She had a feeling he'd heard at least the tail end of the conversation.

"What do you guys want for lunch?" Snow asked, as if Lightning bringing home homeless orphans was something she did quite often.

Lightning shrugged. "Whatever you feel like making."

"Anything in particular?" Snow said to Hope.

Hope dropped his gaze. "I don't mind."

While Snow busied himself making food, Lightning filled a sandwich bag with ice and took Hope into the living room. Sitting him down on the couch, she gave him the makeshift ice pack. He took it, pressing it to his face, and she sat on the opposite side of the couch, facing him.

"What happened to your parents?"

Hope looked away. "My mom died," he said, his voice soft. "I don't know where my dad is, but he doesn't care about us."

"How long have you been on your own?"

"Since the beginning of summer."

"Why haven't you tried to contact your dad?" Lightning drew her legs up, hugging her knees to her chest.

"I don't know where he is. I haven't talked to him in years."

"The authorities could help you track him down - "

"_No_." The venom in Hope's voice took Lightning by surprise.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to. He wouldn't want me anyway. And then they'd just put me in a home or something."

She could sympathize with that. Lightning's parents had died when she was fifteen, forcing her to prove that she could support herself and her sister. But it was better than being trapped in the foster care system for years. "So you opted for being homeless."

"I didn't opt for it. I thought I could…manage." Hope's hands fell in his lap and he played with the ice in its bag, squeezing the melting cubes around in their plastic confine. "I didn't." He finally looked up at her. "What are you going to do with me?"

She didn't actually know that herself. "We'll play it by ear," she told him.

When Snow came into the bedroom that night, she rolled over and stared at the wall.

"What?" he said.

"You think Serah's dead," she whispered.

"It's been two years."

"So?" She sat up.

Snow came around to her side of the bed. "Look, I…we have rent money for next month, don't we?"

"What about when Serah comes home and sees you sold it?"

"Serah's not coming home." His voice was hard.

"You don't know that."

"For god's sake, Lightning, how much longer can I possibly hold out hope?" He sat down, the bedroom floor creaking as he did. "It destroys me every day to plaster this smile on my face and pretend I'm fine and that she's still alive, when I know deep down that there is no way she could be. I just…"

Lightning stared down at him. "You just what?"

He bowed his head and leaned it against one of her knees. "I want to move on," he murmured.

She swallowed hard. Reaching out, she stroked the length of his hair. He sighed.

She knew. She knew as well as he did that Serah probably wasn't ever coming home.

She held out hope, though. She thought Snow would be there with her every step of the way. She now realized that he had only put that face on for her. That he'd done his mourning, and at this point they were picking at wounds long healed for him.

She never thought he'd be the first to give up.

His hand on the inside of her leg startled her. "You should clean these up," Snow said. "We can't exactly afford a trip to the doctor."

Lightning looked down at the messy scrapes on her thighs. She'd forgotten about them. "Yeah. I need to shower, anyway."

She went into the bathroom and closed the door. Gazing at her tired face in the mirror, she thought, _Serah, come back. We're falling apart without you._

When she came back into the bedroom, squeezing water out of her hair with a towel, Snow was already rolled onto his side of the bed. This time, she held him, pushing her face into the back of his neck.


	2. Hope & Snow

**2. Hope & Snow**

Hope roused himself around nine the next morning. The futon in the spare bedroom he'd be designated wasn't the most comfortable thing he'd ever slept on, but compared to the dusty floors and dirty, moth-eaten furniture he'd been bunking on the last few months, it was a slice of heaven.

He cracked his neck and went into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. It felt so good to be clean again. Examining himself in the mirror, he prodded his bruised skin. His cheek was mushy beneath his palpating finger, like the skin of a rotten fruit. It was ugly, marring his otherwise smooth face. Something he would've been bullied for, surely, in school.

Hope had always been a target for them. He'd been a small kid through high school, and only since the beginning of this year had he grown - now he was only an inch shy of six feet. His shoulders seemed broader, his limbs lean instead of scrawny.

It didn't make him any more than easy pickings to the other homeless kids, though.

He combed his hair out between his fingers until it was acceptably disheveled. He needed a hair cut. The ends of his hair was almost skimming his collar.

He rummaged through his bag and found his least dirty pair of jeans. He pressed them to his face, inhaling. They didn't smell, so he put them on and went downstairs. Lightning was in the kitchen already in shorts and a tank top, pouring herself coffee. He couldn't help but notice that she was…well, hot. It felt like a juvenile thing to think of the person who was helping him, and he mentally chastised himself. _That big blonde dude is her boyfriend, anyway, and he wants me gone ASAP._

He really hated the way Snow looked at her, but he didn't know why.

"Good morning," he said.

Lightning spun around, clutching her mug. Some of the hot liquid slopped over the side and trickled down her fingers, and she made a small pained sound.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Hope took the mug from her so she could rinse her hand under the tap. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," Lightning said, exhaling. She ran her fingers under the cold water, then shut off the faucet and wiped them on a nearby dish towel. "Lost in thought. How did you sleep?"

"Better than I have in awhile, thanks." He paused, then said, "Your boyfriend's mad that I'm here, isn't he?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Lightning said shortly. "And his name isn't on the lease, so he doesn't get a say." Hope handed her mug of coffee back to her, and she sipped it. "Don't worry about him."

"Oh." Hope rubbed his bare arms. "Did I take his room? Is that why he's sleeping with you?"

She spluttered and set down her coffee. "No. It's complicated." Hope's brows drew together in confusion. "It's not like that. He's my sister's fiancé."

_Oh…kay then. _"Sorry. I don't mean to pry." Hope crossed his arms behind his back.

"It's okay. You don't have to apologize every five seconds. I know it's weird. You want something to eat?"

"I can make us breakfast," Hope offered. "If it's okay. If you want. I'm a decent cook."

"Sounds fine to me. I'm lousy at it. Snow does most of the food preparation around here. I guess if you're going to be staying here indefinitely, you should just get comfortable with doing stuff around here."

Hope chewed on his bottom lip. "You don't have to do this," he said. "I don't want to cause trouble between you and him."

"It's my house," Lightning told him. "Don't even worry about that. And if he says anything to you, then you tell me, okay?"

"If you say so."

"I do."

He hesitated, then said, "Thank you, Lightning. For…everything." It seemed inadequate.

She waved a hand dismissively and sat at the kitchen table. He felt her gaze on him as he went through the cabinets and drawers, familiarizing himself with where everything was located, pulling out the utensils he needed. He wondered why she was doing this. He wondered if she knew herself.

"Those kids that beat you up…" She began

Hope cracked eggs into a pan. "They didn't beat me up. One hit me in the face."

"Did you know them?"

"No. Not really, anyway. I knew _of_ them, around the neighborhood. I needed a place to stay the other night since it was raining, and I guess the abandoned house I picked happened to be_ their_ abandoned house. They weren't all that happy about it. They came back and woke me up in the middle of the night and, well. Then a cop was driving around the block and we all scattered." It wasn't a lie, not exactly. It wasn't the whole truth, sure, but he didn't actually lie. For her part, Lightning didn't seem totally convinced, but she didn't prod him further, either. Her head was bowed over her coffee, as if discerning some sort of portents from its depths. He averted his gaze and focused back on his omelets.

"Oh," she said suddenly, lifting her head. "You're still in school, aren't you? I mean, by the end of this month, you'll need to go back."

"Uh…yeah. It's my senior year." He'd entertained fantasies of skipping it. Since he'd hit the street, he'd had no interest in going back. He felt so different inside now, almost…beyond it. He'd always been a straight A student, and enjoyed the actual_ learning_ aspect of it all, but the bullying had always put him off school. But now that puberty had dealt him a favorable hand, maybe he'd be picked on less. Would the faculty question it if he just came to school? Did they know his mom was dead? Would they report him?

"You can just go, can't you?" Lightning continued. "I mean…"

Hope shrugged. "I guess so. But they send stuff home in the mail. I'll have to change my address…I don't know how much attention they really pay to anything. Like…well, you know."

"So you're from around here? I mean, my house is in the same school district as yours?"

"Oh, yeah. Not too far from here. Closer to the shore."

"I see." Lightning was tugging on her bottom lip. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head, though he couldn't imagine what she was trying to figure out. How to get rid of him before then?

Hope used a spatula to put the two omelets on separate plates and brought them to the kitchen table. "Here you go. Nothing special, but…"

Lightning forked some eggs into her mouth. "Hey," she said. "Not bad."

"Thanks, I think." Hope gave her a wry smile, and her lips twitched in response.

"You can call me Light, by the way," she said.

* * *

It was impossible to get work in this town.

_But why?_ Snow thought as he left the job fair at the civic center in his truck, maneuvering through the evening traffic. It wasn't for lack of trying. He wanted to provided, _needed_ to. But every application he ever put in was met with no response. The job fair itself hadn't be anything spectacular; very few employers had actually shown up, and none of them seemed interested in hiring anyone at all. He knew it wasn't just him. It didn't help, though, that he had no real qualifications. He had a high school diploma and some college, and the odd job experience here and there…

He knew Lightning was chafing at the bit at this point. He knew she was thinking about going back into the military again, and he desperately wanted to avoid that. He didn't want her to have to provide for them. She had hated the military, hated everything they stood for. She had _seen_ things, when she toured in Pulse. When her four years had been up, she hadn't re-enlisted at Serah's behest, just as he had quit his job at the prison because she'd told him to. It had seemed like such a perfect idea at the time...

_We have to move on, or it'll destroy us both, _he thought, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Easier said than done, especially for Lightning.

Snow walked through the front door of the townhouse. Lightning was sitting on the couch, scanning the newspaper classifieds, her legs curled underneath her. He just wanted to pull the paper out of her hands and kiss her. He fought the impulse. She had accepted his presence in her bed every night, but he had no idea how she'd react if he attempted to take it further. Probably badly.

He didn't know why he wanted her so bad. Maybe it was because she seemed so vulnerable these days. He wanted to protect her, to ease her fears and worries.

He did know it was a bad thing, that she was technically off limits. And part of him wanted to taste the forbidden fruit.

"Any luck?" she asked him, flicking through the pages.

"No. Picked up unemployment money, though." He left his keys and the aforementioned check on the side table, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. She put the paper down and studied him.

"You need a haircut," she remarked.

He sat down beside her. "I'll save us the money. It's not that bad, is it?"

"Your hair is falling into your face. Maybe if you were more kept-looking…want me to trim it?"

"_Trim_. Don't hack it off," Snow said nervously, running his hands through the length. His hair hadn't been short in a long time, and he wasn't about to start now.

"It'll be fine." She went into the downstairs bathroom and returned with shears and a comb. Brushing his bangs forward, she snipped the ends off with a deft hand.

"There. That's much better." She tilted her head at him. "How are you going to use your baby blues to wile someone into giving you a job when they're hidden under that mop?"

Her face was so damn close. "You know best," he said.

"I wish that was true." Lightning moved away from him, but he caught her wrist. She froze, turning her head to look at him. He could feel her pulse fluttering beneath her skin like a captured thing, beating against his fingertips. Snow looked up into her face. Her expression was a carefully composed blank, but her eyes...

He let her go.

As soon as he loosened his grasp, she snatched back her arm and stalked away, brushing shoulders with Hope as he walked out of the laundry room, arms full of clean, folded clothes. Snow noticed that Lightning had cut his hair too, just enough that it wasn't touching his shoulders anymore.

Hope glanced at him, his face guarded. "Hello," he said. Even though Snow had been nothing but nice to his face, he seemed very wary of the other man. Or maybe he was wary of men in general. He seemed totally comfortable in Lightning's presence, despite the fact that they'd only met yesterday.

In truth, though it'd only been less than two days since she'd brought him home, Lightning seemed to have come out of herself a little more. Snow should've been happy about that, but he wasn't, because he didn't understand it. He didn't understand the disconnect between himself and her. They'd been through so much together, but she could seldom give him a smile.

He didn't hate Hope, though. But he was worried.

Snow gave Hope a smile. "Hello yourself. Doing some laundry?"

"Yeah."

"The dryer was busted the other day, so hopefully it holds up," Snow said conversationally.

Hope looked away from him. "I don't have much stuff, so…"

Lightning came back into the living room, glancing between them. She gave Snow an accusatory look, and he gave her bewildered eyes in return.

After dinner, Hope retreated to his room early. Lightning was flipping through news channels as she was wont, always looking for Serah on the news. Snow finished clearing the table and washing the dishes, then came into the living room. He sat on the floor by her legs. After a moment, he rested his head against her thigh.

"How's your legs?" he asked.

"They're okay."

"Can I see?"

Lightning moved to the edge of the couch. Snow turned and pushed against the inside of her legs, opening them a little to see. The jagged cuts seemed to have scabbed over; they didn't look red or infected. "I think you'll live," he said to Lightning.

She smiled a little. "I appreciate the expert opinion."

"You're welcome." Snow pulled himself to his feet and sat beside her on the couch, resting his arm along the back. Lightning picked the remote up again and flicked to a different channel. He watched her as her eyes skimmed over the news ticker.

"Hey," he said, touching her shoulder.

She looked over at him. "What?"

"What are we doing with Hope?"

Her eyes cut away to the floor. "I don't know."

"Just…why, Lightning? We're barely managing as is, and…he's not _ours_. We should really take him to the police or something."

"You should know better than anyone how that would make him feel," she snapped.

He did. He'd been a victim of the foster care system for years. "I do know, but Light, it's not our responsibility. He's what, seventeen? He'd be out in a year or less. We can't save every screwed over orphan in the world. I just…I don't understand. Why did you take him on? Do you even _like _kids?"

"Jesus, Snow. I don't know, okay? I saw him, and I couldn't get him out of my head. I saw him puking up blood in a shitty part of town, I thought he was really sick or something…I couldn't just let it go. So I went and found him. Turns out he's not dying of tuberculosis, great. What was I gonna do? 'Hey I saw you yesterday, thought you were dying but it turns out you're fine, okay, see ya'?" She pushed her hair out of her eyes, staring once more at the TV. "He's a scared kid whose mom just died."

"We gotta figure something out," Snow said.

"Yeah. We will."

"Sooner, not later," he insisted.

"I will figure it out. Just drop it."

Comprehension dawned on Snow. "Does he remind you of Serah? Is that it? Are you looking for someone to take care of again?"

Lightning threw the remote on the floor, startling him. The back cover snapped off and the batteries clattered to the floor, rolling in all directions. She jumped to her feet and kicked the remote across the floor. It skittered some feet away, coming to rest against the wall opposite. She turned and threw open the sliding glass door that led onto the back deck and slammed it shut behind her. The force of it caused it to slide back a little, and Snow could feel the hot summer air wafting in from the crack. The motion sensitive floodlight flickered on as Lightning walked across the deck, and he watched as she sat down, huddling over the edge.

Snow got up, collecting the battered remote and the batteries, and put them back together again. He turned the TV off and went outside.

It wasn't hot so much as it was humid. It was almost oppressive. Snow took a deep breath, then walked across the warm deck boards and sat behind her. She bowed her head, her shoulders hunched. He slid his hand between her shoulder blades where her skin laid bare from her tank top. She shuddered like a fly stung horse.

"Light," he said. "You are making this way too hard."

She lifted her head, staring off into the night. "I'm getting really tired of this song and dance."

"You think I'm not?" When she didn't respond, he continued, "All of this tension is unnecessary. All of your…hostility. This can be easier."

"I don't accept that she's dead," Lightning said. "And I don't care that you do."

"It's been _two years, _Light. And we've heard nothing from the embassy since they told us that plane was hijacked in Pulse."

"That doesn't mean anything. Maybe she's a prisoner of war, or - "

"Why would they keep a bunch of schoolteachers alive?" Snow asked quietly. "What motive would they possibly have for that? You were over there, Lightning. You know what it's like. You know what _they _are like."

He ran his hand down the length of her back, his palm skimming her spine, fingertips brushing against her taught muscles through her thin shirt. Lightning drew her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them.

"I do know," she said at length. "More than you. That's why I haven't given up yet."

Snow's hand made the trip back up to her shoulders. "Lightning."

"What?"

"I can't…I can't do this. I can't handle…" He spread his hands. "This. What you're doing."

Lightning turned to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"What we talked about last night. I just want to move on from this. I want us to make some kind of life together, rebuild. I can't do it when you keep dragging us to the past."

Suddenly her face contorted in anger, and she backhanded him. His head rocked to the side from the blow and he bit the tip of his tongue. His mouth immediately filled with blood. He looked at her, pressing his hand to his reddened cheek, then stood up, walking away from her to the opposite end of the deck where the light didn't quite reach. He spit over the side.

It wasn't the first time Lightning had lashed out at him physically, but it was the first time that he felt well and truly hurt by it.

"What do you want from me?!" she screamed at him. "_What do you want from me?_" When Snow didn't respond, Lightning got up and came over to him. She spun him around to face her. "Huh? You want me to pretend everything's fine, I'm fine, so you can enjoy a precious little fantasy of us, with a house and a white picket fence, with a dog and a cat and two-point-five kids?" She grabbed the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the back wall. "Is that it? Well, that's not me. I don't want that, because you're supposed to be my brother in law, not my fucking boyfriend. And _I'm not fine_."

"Do you even try?" Snow accused her.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Try to be fine. Try to be happy, try to see some of the good in life. You're so goddamn negative all the time, and this shit - " he gestured to his face " - is really unnecessary, you know that? You say you're not fine, but why? Some stuff sucks, but not everything. There's good, too." She was glaring up at him. "It's been years," he added. "Years since you've been to Pulse, years since Serah died - "

"_She's not dead!_"

"Who are you trying to convince?" he asked her. "Me? Or yourself?"

"I hate you," she said savagely. "I really fucking hate you."

"I love you," he said.

That gave her pause. She stared at him, her face flushed.

"What do you want from me?" she asked again, but her voice had lost its edge.

"I want you to be happy," Snow replied. His heart was pounding in his chest, flooding his ears with the sound of its beat. He put his hands over hers where they were still balled in his shirt, squeezing. Her grip loosened. "I want you to be with me," he continued, tugging on her arms, pulling them so they twined around his neck, closing the distance between their bodies. "I want you."

He dipped his head and kissed her. She didn't move, frozen against him. He cupped her face in both hands, resting his forehead against hers.

"Is that okay?" he whispered.

Lightning slid her fingers through his hair and pulled Snow's head back down, pressing her mouth against his, hard. She made a small sound as his arms went around her waist, pulling her against his body. If she could taste the blood on his tongue, she didn't show any signs of being unhappy about it.

Lightning broke the kiss, and he thought she was going to pull away, but she didn't. Her mouth was hot on his neck, teeth grazing his skin, and he groaned. His hands slipped under her shirt, sliding up the smooth skin of her back. He ducked his head and captured her lips in another kiss, sliding a knee between her legs. His hands ran over the outside of her bra, and then under it, cupping her breasts.

"Fuck me," she breathed.

"Here?"

"Yes."

He pushed her up against the side of the house and obliged her. Neither of them thought about the fact that the other bedroom's window was right above them, or if they were being loud enough to wake anyone up, or the possibility that Hope had just seen everything.


	3. Lightning & Snow

**3. Lightning & Snow**

"Hey…Lightning?" Hope leaned on the bannister from where he stood on the stairs, looking down at her as she pulled the vacuum cleaner from the closet in the foyer.

"What?" Lightning answered, turning to look at him. His face was was uncertain, and his cheeks flushed slightly as she met his gaze.

He'd been weird for the last few days; evasive, staying in his room more often than not. Or maybe that was how he really was, and now that he was comfortable in the house, he was reverting back to his own habits. She didn't really know for sure - she'd only known him for a week at this point - but within the realm of her experience with him, he was acting weird around her.

"The…um, the water isn't working."

"What?" she said again. "What do you mean?"

"No. I was trying to take a shower and nothing's coming out."

Lightning dropped the cord of the vacuum with an unceremonious clatter and went into the downstairs bathroom, twisting both knobs on either side of the faucet. Nothing happened. "Shit," she said.

She racked her brain. When had the water bill been due? She couldn't remember. She left the bathroom and went back into the living room, and Hope followed her. She went through the considerable pile of mail that was sitting on the coffee table, but she saw nothing postmarked by the water company.

"Fuck! Where is it?" she muttered under her breath, shuffling through the stack of envelopes again. With a frustrated groan, she sat on the floor, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes so hard than she saw stars. She felt the panic trying to claw its way out of her chest, but it was a ridiculous thing to feel so terrorized about. It wasn't the first time their water had been turned off, and probably wouldn't be the last.

She'd felt this way for the last week. Panicked, trapped. Anything and everything seemed to set her off. She felt claustrophobic in the house, but if she went outside, she was overwhelmed. She felt like she was relapsing back to the days when she'd just gotten back from her tour in Pulse. She found herself dissociating, something she hadn't done in years. The entire day would pass while she was in her head.

_Calm down_, she told herself. She snapped the ponytail holder around her wrist against her skin, once, twice, three times. Her skin reddened under the lash. _My name is Lightning Farron. It's August fourteenth. I am home. I am safe._

_Am I safe?_

"I found it," Hope said quietly.

Lightning looked up. Hope had the mail in his hands, and he handed her the envelope with Bodhum Water's emblem printed on it.

"Thank you," she murmured, tearing it open. The bill had been due over a week ago, but it was only thirty dollars, for a mercy…but she knew her wallet was empty. She could donate plasma, but that would only net her fifteen dollars. She debated waiting until Snow got home to see if he could contribute, and that thought panicked her too.

"Are you okay?"

Lightning looked up at Hope. His eyes were a little wide, but his face was genuinely concerned.

"Yeah. Great. Just figuring out where I'm gonna get this money."

"I have some," Hope said.

"I'm not taking the last five bucks you have to your name," Lightning snapped. "I'll donate some plasma, then…" She went to the couch and started pulling up the cushions. "Maybe there's change hidden somewhere…"

Hope dashed upstairs, the floorboards creaking under his feet. She found a dollar and a handful of pennies in the couch, and a torn five on the bookshelf. _Still gonna be ten dollars short. Shit, what if there's a late fee? There's absolutely going to be a late fee._

Hope appeared at her side again, pressing a wadded bill into her hands. It was a one hundred dollar bill. "Here," he said.

"Where did you get this?" Lightning asked him, incredulous.

"It's mine."

"I can't take this," she said, trying to give it back to him.

"Yes," he insisted. "You're letting me stay here, it's the least I can do."

"Hope…"

"Take it," he said, his hands behind his back, as if that would really prevent her from giving him back the money if she wanted to.

"I'll give you the rest back, then."

"No. Just keep it. You need it."

She tried to stare him down, but he met her gaze unflinching. After a moment she said, "I guess I'll be back in a little bit. The office is just down the street."

"I'll come with you," he offered.

Once they were settled in the car, Hope asked again, "Are you okay?"

She glanced at him as she shifted the car into drive. "Why?"

Hope toyed with his seatbelt. "I don't know," he mumbled. "You seem…off."

Lightning's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "So do you," she countered.

He smiled a little. "But I asked you first."

At length, she answered, "I'm okay. It's the same shit as it always is."

"I don't mean to presume…" He shifted in his seat. "But I don't think that's true."

The corner of her mouth twitched. "And thus, you presume."

"Correctly," Hope added.

She braked at a stoplight. "You're a little shit," she told him.

"So I've been told," Hope answered with a smile, but it soon faded. He turned in his seat to face her, propping his elbow against the car door and resting his face on his hand. "Does he hurt you?"

Lightning turned to stare at him, gaping, then snapped her mouth shut with an audible click. "What did you say?"

"Snow," Hope said.

She was gripping the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles were turning white. "What - "

"I saw, the other night," Hope said.

"How much?" Lightning asked between gritted teeth.

Hope shrugged. "All of it?" he replied, clearly embarrassed. "You guys were being really loud?"

"Jesus christ." Lightning turned back to the road. _I am Lightning Farron. I am safe._ Snap, snap, snap went the rubber band.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Sorry," she mumbled, flicking on her turn signal as they approached their destination.

"For what?"

Lightning pulled the car into the water company's parking lot and turned the car off. She let her forehead fall forward and press against the steering wheel, taking a deep breath. "What do you want me to say?" she asked.

She felt his hand on her shoulder. "I want you to tell me if you're okay or not."

"And what are you gonna do about it?" She turned her face to look at him.

"Lightning," Hope said. "Does he hurt you?"

She faced forward again, staring out of the windshield. Dark clouds had gathered on the horizon, and lightning flashed between them every so heat was stifling in the car._Yes. No. Only in the ways I ask for. _"The one thing you never do is betray family, right?"

Hope took off his seatbelt and turned in his seat completely, his back to the door. He remained silent, but his sea-green eyes were imploring.

"I've done a lot of shitty things in my life," Lightning continued. "But I never hurt Serah. And then I did that too."

"Serah is your sister?"

"Yeah."

"I think she would forgive you," Hope said quietly. "Considering the circumstances."

"That's the problem; I know she would. But she really shouldn't."

Hope groped for the crank for the car window and rolled it down. The breeze, though warm, was welcome in the suffocating heat of the car. It ruffled the silvery strands of his hair. "Tell me about her," he said.

"Serah?" A faint smile touched Lightning's lips. "She's the kindest person I've ever met. The smartest, too." She frowned. "In most cases, anyway. Sometimes her judgment could be questionable, but she always saw the good in people. A gift and a curse, I guess."

"Where is she now?" Hope probed gently.

Lightning looked over at him. "She…she joined this overseas teaching program. For the kids who were victims of the war."

"In Pulse?" Hope raised his brows in surprise.

"Yeah. Sounds crazy, right? It is." Lightning shifted her legs; the skin of her thighs were sticking to the hot leather. "Two years ago, she left. That's the last time we saw or heard anything of her. For months after we called the program office, wanting to hear news. All they told us was that the plane was hijacked on landing. They told us they launched an investigation and couldn't find out anything. That's all anyone knew." Her throat was tight. "If I'd…I should've said no. I shouldn't have let her. But she was an adult, it was something she wanted to do, she wanted to save both of us - "

Hope moved across the car's center console, heedless of the gear shift as he banged his leg against it, and suddenly she was in his arms. He hugged her tightly, with a strength she wouldn't have expected of him - for some reason, until this point, she'd considered him fragile. She sat in shock as his arms enfolded her into his chest. She could smell the sweat on his skin, though it wasn't an altogether unpleasant scent, overlaid with the faint fragrance of deodorant.

"I'm sorry," he said.

It was the first time in two years anyone other than Snow had offered any sort of consolation. For Lightning, the world had stopped, but for everyone else, it'd kept turning. Even Snow had been capable of getting over it. Part of her knew that she couldn't balk at moving forward forever, but the rest of her couldn't see the point in it without any sort of closure.

It was nice to know that she was still capable of receiving a measure of human compassion.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He pulled away after a minute, awkward and embarrassed. "It's really hot in here," he mumbled.

Lightning opened the door and got out, and Hope followed suit. The air conditioned office was a welcome change from the sweltering summer heat. The woman behind the desk gave them an appraising look, and thinly veiled her displeasure at their sweaty, rumpled appearance - Lightning realized, as she paid the bill, that it probably looked like they'd been up to something.

She felt that cloistering panic in her stomach again.

As they walked back to the car, Lightning stuffed the remaining bills into the back pocket of Hope's jeans. "Hey," he said, swatting her hand away. "No."

"School is starting soon," Lightning countered. "You're going to need it for supplies."

Hope opened his mouth to protest, but lacking any real argument, he pressed his lips into a thin line instead.

"Yeah," Lightning said. "It's okay, you know?"

"I guess," he mumbled. "I don't really want to go back."

Lightning unlocked the car, and they both got in. "You have to," she told him.

"Okay, mom."

She wrinkled her nose. "Nothing mom about it. School is important."

"I hate it," he said venomously.

"I didn't like it that much, either," she admitted. With a sidelong glance, she asked, "Why do you hate it? Bad at it?"

"Nothing like that," Hope replied. "I…I'm not very popular, I guess."

"You get picked on?" Lightning eased the car into the flow of traffic.

"I guess," he muttered again.

"Fuck them," Lightning said. "Anyone messes with you, tell them you know a crazy bitch who doesn't have a problem with beating up kids."

He laughed. "That should go over well."

"Did you want to go do that now?" Lightning glanced over at him again. "While we're out? Go pick up some paper and pencils or whatever?"

"Not really," Hope said. "Not today, anyway. I just really want a shower." He sniffed his shirt and made a face for emphasis, and she smiled.

Once they pulled up to the house, she turned to him. "Hope…thank you."

He blinked at her, startled. "For what?"

"For…being a friend."

"Oh. Yeah, of course." He titled his head and smiled at her. "It's the least I can do."

* * *

"Where's Lightning?"

Hope lifted his head from folding his laundry. His hair was damp, probably from showering, clinging to his ruddy cheeks. He looked at Snow with thinly veiled disgust. "Upstairs," he answered. "Sleeping. She said she wanted to be left alone. She doesn't feel well."

"Cool. Thanks." Disregarding Hope, who made a sound of protest, he bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He was too giddy with the good news to wait. He burst into the bedroom. The room was dark, the curtains on the window drawn. Lightning had the covers pulled over her head.

"Light!" he exclaimed. "I got a job."

Lightning didn't move. Snow sat on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He gently pulled the sheet down. She grumbled and grabbed it back, pulling it over her face again.

"Did you hear me?" he asked. "I got a job. Nothing fancy, just construction, but the money is decent, and - "

"Great," she interrupted. "I'm trying to sleep."

He frowned. "Hey. Are you okay? I figured you'd be more excited."

"I just want to be left alone."

He sat there for a moment, hurt. "Okay…do you want dinner?" He rubbed her back through the sheet, but she pulled away.

"Stop," she said.

"Okay. Sorry." He got back up, his mood considerably dampened by Lightning's unenthused response. He changed into more comfortable clothes and ran a brush through his hair, glancing over at Lightning as he did. She was silent and still.

"I'm gonna make dinner," he told her. "I'll make you some soup or something. Come down in a little bit?"

"Sure," came the muffled response.

He went back downstairs and into the kitchen. Hope was ironing a shirt now. "I told you," he said.

"I had good news," Snow retorted. "I didn't want to wait to tell her."

"Uh huh." Hope didn't even glance up.

Snow opened the fridge. He was in a foul mood now. He wanted to not take Lightning's mood personally, but he couldn't help it. He was even more annoyed by the fact that Hope was privy to her business. He shut the fridge again, agitated. "Hey. Why do you hate me so much?"

Hope looked up at him, furrowing his fair brows. "What?"

"It's pretty clear you don't like me," Snow said. "So why?"

"I don't hate you."

Snow crossed his arms over his chest. "Just tell me why, kid. I've been trying to be your friend the whole time you've been here."

Hope opened his mouth, maybe to protest, then shut it. He slid the shirt onto a hanger and laid it on the back of the couch, pulling out another one. It looked like a dress shirt, maybe part of his school uniform. "Because you're a dick," he said, matter-of-factly.

Snow blinked at him. "What? _Me?_ A dick? Are you kidding?"

"No," Hope answered shortly. "I'm not."

"Why the hell am I a dick?" Snow demanded.

"Because," Hope said, "you're a blowhard. All talk. And you…" He trailed off, looking uncertain.

Snow slammed his hand down on the counter. "No. Tell me."

"You treat Lightning like crap."

Snow stared at Hope, whose gaze was averted as he ironed. Treated Lightning bad? Was that a joke?

_What did Lightning tell him?_

"Hey. What are you guys doing?"

Both him and Hope started at the sound of Lightning's voice as she walked into the kitchen, looking between them. "Hm?" she said.

"Nothing," Snow told her.

She gave him an even look, but he noticed her fingers toying with the hairband around her wrist. The sight of it struck a chord in him. "What are you doing?" he asked her, raising his voice.

Lightning raised her eyebrows. "What?"

He grabbed her hand. "What are you doing with this?"

She tried to snatch it back, but he held onto her. "It's a hair band, you psycho. Let go."

"It's not holding hair," Snow said, turning her arm over. The underside of her wrist was red and bruised. "Are you seriously doing this shit again? _Why?_"

"Let. Go." Lightning's voice was a low growl.

"Why can't you just talk to me?" Snow asked.

"I swear to god, if you don't let me go, you will regret it."

He dropped her hand, but not before pulling the band off of her arm. Her face was furious. Without a word, she spun on her heel and stormed up the stairs. Snow followed her, leaving behind a bewildered Hope.

Lightning tried to slam the bedroom door in his face but he caught it. "_Leave me alone!_" she screamed at him.

"No," he said. "What the hell is wrong with you, Lightning?"

"You are," she snapped. "Get out of my room."

"For one, it's our room," Snow said.

"I couldn't give a fuck less. This is _my_ house."

"Let's talk about this," Snow pleaded her. "Please. Why are you hurting yourself again? You haven't done that in years."

Lightning unconsciously touched her wrist where the band was, then dropped her hands. "It helps me," she finally said. "It keeps me grounded."

"Why are you feeling ungrounded?"

"Because. Things are different now."

"What? With us?" Snow raised his eyebrows. "You're doing this because…"

"Yes," she cut him off.

He dropped to his knees in front of her. "I want to help you," he said. "Please don't do this."

She looked down at him, her throat working. "I can't help it."

Snow wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face against her stomach. She stood there, unmoving. "Remember that whole talk about moving on?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"This isn't moving on. This is you relapsing."

Lightning's fingers went through his hair. He kissed her stomach, then stood up. She raised her chin, her face a carefully composed blank. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I can't do this," he said.

"Do what?" she asked suspiciously.

"This. I can't…be here." Snow stepped back from her.

"What? What are you saying?"

"Like I said, Lightning. I can't live in the past like this. I have to move on, with or without you." He felt his heart breaking with every word he said. When he saw the look on her face, he wanted to take them back.

But he couldn't, because they were true. He turned away and went to the closet, pulling out a bag.

"You're leaving?" He heard the springs on the mattress squeal as she sat down hard.

"Yeah. I mean, for now. I'll come back in a few days," he said, shoving a handful of clothing in the bag.

"You're joking, right? You…"

"No. Lightning, how many times have we had this talk?" He turned to look at her. "I'm not kidding. I never was."

"Don't," she murmured.

"I am. Not for good. Not yet. Just a couple days." He zipped the bag up and put it over his shoulder.

"I can't believe you're doing this," she said. "You're just going to up and leave, just like that. You couldn't even…"

"I told you. I'll be back. I need to be alone for a few days." Snow went to her. Taking her chin in his hand, he tilted her face up and kissed her. She did not reciprocate.

"Where are you going to go?" she asked.

"Dunno. But I will be back, okay?"

She scowled at him. "Fine. Just fucking go. Abandon me like you abandoned Serah."

"That's not fair," he said.

"Go away, Snow."

He went.

* * *

Her bed was so goddamned lonely.

She slept in the hallway instead.


	4. Hope & Lightning

**Note: **It's all downhill from here.  
**Additional note:** Addressing a recent review I received - lots of time I opt not to write explicit sex scenes. If this is your only gripe with my writing, please don't send me reviews about it! Constructive crit is welcome, as always, but "wahh no lemon" is not. Thanks!

**4. Hope & Lightning**

Hope laid awake, staring at the ceiling. He could just barely make out the form of a spider as it skittered across a shaft of light from the street lamp, and wrinkled his nose slightly, hoping it wouldn't decide to drop down over the futon.

After a moment he pushed the coverlet back and got up. He was so hungry that his stomach felt like it was folding in on itself in a painful contortion, and he decided that even though it was one in the morning, he wasn't going to get any sleep on an empty stomach.

He stepped out into the hallway and nearly tripped over Lightning. "Jesus!" he gasped, grabbing the wall for support. He groped for the light switch and flicked it on. Lightning lifted her head and looked at him blearily.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She dropped her head with a groan. "Turn the light off," she mumbled.

Hope dropped to his knees beside her, touching her shoulder. "Hey," he said. "Why are you out here?"

Lightning finally sat up, back to the wall. "I don't know," she said. "I can't…" She stared across the hall at her bedroom door as she trailed off.

Hope pushed his hair out of his face, stifling a sigh. _This is more than any seventeen year old should be expected to cope with_, he thought ruefully, allowing himself a moment of self-pity.

She glanced up at him. "What time is it?"

"I dunno. After midnight." Hope stood up. "I was going to make something to eat, since…"

"Yeah," Lightning cut him off.

He rubbed his neck. "Yeah," he murmured. "Do you want something?"

"Sure," she replied.

Lightning followed him downstairs and into the kitchen. She sat at the table, rubbing her face with her hands. Hope pulled out a can of soup. "We can split this," he offered.

"Yeah, whatever. That's fine."

Hope tipped the contents of the entire can into a bowl, added water, and stuck it in the microwave. It tasted better, he knew, if he made it on the stove, but he was too hungry to wait. "Is he…uh…coming back?" he asked tentatively.

Lightning scratched at the peeling paint on the tabletop with her thumbnail. "So he says," she answered.

The microwave peeped, and Hope pulled out the hot bowl, cursing under his breath as he burnt his fingers. He spooned some into another bowl, then used potholders to transfer them to the table. "I'm sorry," he said. "Maybe it's my fault."

Lightning arched a brow. "Hm?"

"That he left. He asked me why I hated him. I called him a dick."

Lightning stared at him, then let out a short bark of laughter, so abrupt that Hope jumped. "No," she snorted. "I'm quite sure that wasn't it."

"Well…" Hope stirred his bowl, watching the steam rise in a cloud. "I said he treated you bad, too."

She was watching him. "You said that?"

"I did," Hope said, sheepish. "I dunno, I was mad because he went storming up there like a demented dog even though I told him you said you wanted to be left alone, and - "

"Hope," she said gently. "It had nothing to do with you."

"Will you tell me why, then?" He looked at her from under his hair.

She glanced down at the soup. She picked up the spoon and put it back down. "Because," she said, "he expects more of me than I am capable of doing."

"How vague," Hope commented, taking an experimental spoonful of soup. It didn't quite scald the tastebuds off his tongue.

Lightning rested her chin on her hand. "Tell me about your family, Hope."

"Nothing to tell," he mumbled, spooning more soup into his mouth. "Mom's dead, dad's gone…somewhere."

"Why do you hate your dad?"

"Because he's an asshole too," Hope spat. "He took his fancy job in Palumpolum three years ago and hasn't come to see us since. He was just sending money, and then he stopped doing that too." _He never wanted either of us, and when he saw that opportunity to get away, he took it. He never gave a fuck._

"And you never found out why?" Lightning asked.

"No."

"What about your mom? She didn't say anything about it?"

"No," Hope murmured, ducking his head. "She never wanted to talk about it."

He felt her gaze on him, knew she wanted to probe him further, but for a mercy, she remained silent and kept eating.

He never really wondered about his dad. Maybe most people would be upset over their father's disappearance, but Hope couldn't care less. He'd known his mom cared, though. But she never wanted to talk about it, if she knew what happened to him.

Maybe he was dead too.

Hope pushed back his chair and got up, rinsing his bowl out. Lightning was still picking at her food, head bowed over the table. He came back to her. "Are you gonna be okay?" he asked her.

Lightning let her spoon fall with a clatter. She sighed. "I guess."

"Well…don't sleep in the hallway. You don't need back problems on top of everything else. Or me stepping on you again," Hope joked.

"I just…" She stared off into space. "It's been awhile since I've had to sleep alone, I guess. It's hard. When I'm alone, the nightmares come back. I mean, that's why I let him in my bed in the first place. Helped keep the night terrors at bay. And that bed's just so big, and…" She stopped.

"That bad, huh?" Hope rubbed his neck. _Worse and worse. You are easily the most messed up person I've ever met. _He instantly felt bad for that thought, even though it was true. In spite of her very obvious issues, though, he did like her.

"Yeah," Lightning said. She shook her head. "It's pathetic. I hate it."

Hope sat back down again. "Do you…do you have PTSD, or something?"

She met his gaze. "Yes," she said briefly.

_That explains a lot. _"Oh. I had an uncle who had it. He fought in the war, too."

"It was pretty awful," Lightning said, her tone deceptively even.

_He also killed himself, but probably shouldn't mention that. _"I guess I'm gonna go back to bed," Hope said, rising once more.

"Okay," Lightning murmured. "Thanks for dinner. Midnight snack. Whatever."

"You're welcome." He hesitated. "Are you going to go back to bed, too?"

"I dunno yet. I probably won't be able to sleep yet, anyway." She shrugged one shoulder.

"Why…um, why don't you sleep with me?"

Lightning's eyebrows hit her hairline.

"I mean, just so you don't have nightmares or whatever," Hope amended hastily, his face bright red. "Not…you know…"

"I know," Lightning interrupted. "It's fine. Thanks, Hope."

"S-sure. Um…goodnight." He turned and ran up the stairs, nearly face planting at the top in his rush. _Stupid_, he chastised himself. _She probably thinks I'm a stupid horny kid. I'm not her big tough boyfriend._

He found himself unable to sleep for another hour, worried that she was going to actually come, and more worried that she wouldn't. After awhile, he did begin to doze off.

"Hope that offer still stands," Lightning murmured as she joined him on the futon.

He froze, instantly wide awake. He thought about feigning sleep. She settled in beside him, and his breath escaped him in a shaky sigh. She pressed her cheek to the back of his shoulder.

"Okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," he whispered. "It's fine."

"Don't hyperventilate," she told him.

Hope relaxed a little. "Not me," he assured her.

He could feel her smile against his shoulder. "Good night, Hope."

* * *

A shaft of afternoon sun burned Lightning's eyes behind their lids as it came through the blinds. With a groan, she opened them, squinting against the sunlight. At some point during the night, Hope had maneuvered his head to pillow on her chest, his arm flung over her stomach.

She wriggled herself towards the edge of the futon and reached down to the floor, groping for her phone. Hope made a small sound, but remained soundly asleep otherwise. With grasping fingertips, she managed to snag it, and she checked the time. It was nearly three. She'd never slept in so late in her life.

Lightning flipped to her messages, but there was nothing new. She scrolled to Snow's name and opened a new message. She was torn between asking him if he was okay and making a snide comment, but opted for a neutral _where did you sleep?_ instead. She set the phone down by the pillow and put her hands behind her head. She would let Hope sleep a few minutes longer, she decided.

He was a good kid, and surprisingly intuitive.

Her phone buzzed with a new text, and she checked it. _Crashed at Yuj's_, Snow wrote.

_When are you coming back?_ she typed in reply.

_Do you miss me? _he responded almost instantly.

She wanted to say no, just to be a bitch. She decided to be truthful instead.

_I miss you in my bed._

_Is that all?_

At that moment Hope lifted his head. Realizing where he was, he scooted away, nearly falling off of the futon in the process. "Sorry!" he gasped.

Lightning raised her eyebrows. "Good morning."

Hope combed his hair out with his fingers. "Morning."

She gave him an amused look. "What's the problem?"

Realizing that she didn't care, he composed himself. "Nothing," he said. "I forgot, is all. You startled me."

Lightning checked her phone once more. _Taking your silence as a yes_, Snow had wrote.

_I'm not having this conversation via phone. Come home, _she wrote back.

_You didn't understand last night, why would you now?_

Lightning dropped her phone in her lap with an agitated sigh. Hope gave her a questioning look. "What's up?" he asked.

"Nothing. Listen, did you want to buy your school stuff today?"

"Oh. Yeah, I guess," he answered, bemused. "What time is it? It seems late."

"It is," she said. "It's like three in the afternoon." She got off the futon. "I need to shower, then we can head out."

"Sure," Hope said. "Want me to make you something to eat?"

"That's fine," she said, and went across the hall into her own room.

* * *

"There's still some left over," Hope said as they walked to the car in the fading afternoon light, school supply purchases in hand.

"Hm?" Lightning looked over at him. "What?"

"Money," Hope clarified.

"Oh. Just keep it, Hope."

"No," he said, stopping and waiting for Lightning to unlock the car. "I want to do something nice for you."

She scoffed, opening one of the rear doors so he could put his bags in the back seat. "Like what? Dinner and a movie?"

"Maybe," he said defensively, and they both laughed.

"I'm not really a fancy restaurant kind of girl," she said with a wry smile.

"Doesn't have to be like that," he said.

They both got into the car. "Why are you so dead set on spending that money?" she asked him.

He crossed his arms as Lightning pulled out of the parking lot. "It's not that," he murmured. "You've just been through a lot, and I know it'd been hard having me around too. I just…I appreciate it. I appreciate _you. _I want you to know that." He stared down at his feet, embarrassed. "Sorry. Forget it."

He could feel her gaze on him. "Alright," she said after moment. "You really want to do something nice for me."

Hope rolled his eyes. "If you let me."

She braked abruptly, turning the car into a desolate parking lot that served one rundown-looking building with a neon sign pronouncing its purpose: LIQUOR. The windows and doors all had bars on them. He raised his eyebrows, then looked at Lightning, who gave him a wicked smile.

"Yes?" she said.

He handed her the remaining bills. "Enjoy."

* * *

"Here you are," Lightning announced, setting a shot glass down in front of him on the coffee table from where they both sat on the couch.

Hope stared at the clear liquid. "Are you forgetting I'm seventeen?" he asked her.

She snorted. "Oh, come on. It's one shot of vodka. No one's going to break down the door and arrest you." She tossed back her own shot. "See?" she said, setting the glass down. "Your turn."

He eyed the vodka suspiciously. "I don't know," he said, tone wary.

Lightning smiled patiently. "Alright, alright," she told him. "You don't have to."

She moved to pick up the shot glass, but he took it instead, not wanting to appear the wimp. "It's like you said," Hope said. "Right? Just a shot." He raised it in the air. "Bottoms up." He put it to his lips, and without further hesitation, tipped the contents into his mouth. It burned, acridly, as it coursed down his throat, and he willed himself not to splutter. It felt like it was spreading through his veins, setting them afire.

"Nice," she laughed. "Was that really your first drink?"

"Yes," he panted, sliding the glass across the coffee table.

"Aha," she said, pouring herself another. He watched her knock it back. She met his gaze as she lowered the glass. "Want another?" she asked coyly, her cheeks flushed.

He laughed. "You're a terrible influence on me, Light."

"Maybe. No harm in getting drunk." She twisted a lock of her hair around her her finger.

"That is _not _what they teach in school," Hope said, but he pushed his glass towards her, and she filled it before filling her own.

"Cheers," she said, clinking her glass with his before drinking it. Hope followed suit. The taste wasn't as terrible that time, but as he set the glass back down on the table, he felt a little weird.

"Okay?" Lightning asked him.

"Yeah." He nodded, and the world flip-flopped for a moment. "Whoa," he said, laughing and grabbing his head.

Lightning grinned at him. "Feeling it?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Being drunk is fun," she enthused. "As long as you aren't a psycho or something. Want another? Just one more."

"Why not?" Hope said recklessly. "As long as you're not like, gonna try and make me drive you somewhere."

"Yeah, right. Where would we go? Do you even have a driver's license?" She filled both shot glasses one more time, spilling a few drops.

"Yes! I just don't have a car."

"No shit," Lightning said. "Else you'd be living in it instead of in a gutter."

"Probably," Hope agreed. He picked up his glass, but it slipped out of his hands and fell over, spilling it on the table. Lightning spluttered as she drank her shot. "Whoops."

"Party foul," she said. "Now you gotta drink it off the table."

"For real?"

"For real," Lightning told him.

Hope studied her face, trying to gauge if she was being serious or not, but her face kept coming in and out of focus, like a busted camera lens. "Not gonna do it?" she questioned. "Don't have to."

"I'll do it," he said. He leaned forward, but wound up falling off the couch and onto the floor. Lightning laughed.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine." He pressed his cheek against the coffee table's edge. "Sorry."

"S'okay," she assured him. "I got it." She lowered her head to the table and proceeded to suck the spilled vodka off the surface. His eyes widened as he watched her, his stomach and lower things clenching unexpectedly. He quickly drew his knees up to his chest.

She lifted her head and met his gaze. "You sure you okay?"

"Yeah," he said. He uprighted his glass. "Another."

"You're the boss." Lightning poured him another. Hope took a firm grip of it this time and drank it. This time when he set it down, his vision swam.

"Poor baby," she said, reaching over and pushing his hair out of his face. "Take it easy. You don't have to do more."

"I'm good," he asserted, pulling himself onto the couch.

Lightning shrugged and laughed. "I'm drunk already," she told him.

"I think I am too," he said.

Lightning picked up the bottle and took a swig. "But not drunk enough," she slurred. "Not me, anyway."

"Drinkin' like a champ," Hope said. "I think I remember something about not exceeding five shots an hour?"

"S'that what they're teaching in school now?" Her tongue darted out, running over her upper lip. Hope's eyes followed it. "This is the first time I've really drank in…shit. Years." Her eyes settled on him. "You know what's fun?"

"Nope."

"Body shots," she answered, a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Body wha…?"

"Take your shirt off," she ordered.

If there was a part of his brain that was alerting him to the need to refuse, it had long since been smothered by the alcohol. "Why?" he asked, all drunken curiosity.

"I'll show you."

He fumbled for the ends of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. "Now what?" he asked.

Lightning stood up, stumbling only a little. "Lie down," she said, kneeling beside the couch. Hope obeyed, putting his hands behind his head. Lightning picked up the bottle of vodka once more and poured some into his navel. He flinched slightly.

"What are you doing?" he said.

"Watch." She bowed her head over him and sucked the liquor off of his stomach. Hope inhaled sharply. She looked at him, licking her lips. "_That_ is a body shot."

_Don't look down_, he willed her mentally. "I see," he said, breathless.

"Wanna do me?" She proffered the vodka.

He sat up, taking it from her. "Uh…"

Lightning was already pulling her shirt off. Her navel ring glinted dully in the dim lighting of the living room. Hope pressed his thighs together. _Oh, my god. _Her bra was black and teasingly sheer, her breasts swelling above the lace. Regardless of how long she'd been out of the army, her body was still quite…fit. "Well, for a real body shot, we'd need tequila and salt and a lime, but…"

She turned and tossed her shirt on the floor, and he saw the scars, old and misshapen, criss-crossing up the length of her back. The sight of them almost sobered him up, until she turned back around. He quickly forgot about them, then. There was nothing ugly about the front of her.

"Your turn," she said as she got onto the couch.

Hope poured the bottle, two-handed to keep it steady, onto her stomach. The excess alcohol trickled down the sides of her waist and onto the couch. He took a deep breath, then lowered his head and drank the vodka off her belly. The extra dose of alcohol made him brave. He licked up the vodka that had trailed down her sides, and she made a small sound.

"And that's how it's done," she whispered.

"You're a good teacher," he whispered back.

Lightning sat up, reaching one hand to him, running her fingers through his hair. Impulsively, he turned his head, laying his lips on her bruised wrist. Hope heard her sharp intake of breath.

And suddenly she was pulling his head towards hers and kissing him like he'd never been kissed - not that he'd ever actually been kissed, aside from the pecks shared with his middle school girlfriend - and he could taste the alcohol on her breath, but he didn't care. Her lips parted under his, and their tongues touched.

"You're beautiful," Lightning murmured, pushing his hair away from his neck and kissing along the skin of his throat. Hope didn't answer; he couldn't. His breath was coming so fast, he felt like his body was going to combust. Her hands moved down his stomach, brushing the front of his jeans.

"Light," he said, his voice trembling.

"I know," she said, thumbing the clasp open and unzipping them. Her hand slid inside his boxers, and he moaned. Lightning kissed him again, then trailed her mouth to his ear, biting down on the lobe.

"Are you a virgin?" she murmured, and he shivered.

"Does it matter?" Hope asked in return.

The answer seemed to satisfy her, though it was no answer at all. Her mouth was on his again.

He did lose his virginity that night.

* * *

Lightning heard a car pull up outside.

In an instant she was awake, though her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and her mouth tasted worse than anything she could imagine at that moment. She sat up on the couch, grabbing her head, every muscle and bone in her body creaking in and popping in protest.

_Why am I naked?_

She surveyed the room with dawning horror. The overturned shot glass, the almost empty bottle of vodka, Hope lying under the coffee table facedown, similarly undressed.

"Holy shit," she said under her breath. "Oh, shit, don't be dead." She reached down and grabbed his shoulder. He startled awake, banging his head on the table. With a groan, he covered his face in his hands.

"Jesus christ," she said. "Are you okay?"

"I think I'm gonna be sick," he groaned.

"Did we have sex?" she asked him bluntly.

Hope dropped his head in his arms. "Uh. Yeah."

"Holy shit," she said again. In that moment, she was aware of the tell-tale soreness between her legs. _You fucked a seventeen year old. You got him drunk and had sex with him. Holy fuck, he was probably a virgin._ Lightning grabbed his jeans and threw them at him. "Someone's here," she said urgently.

Hope crawled out from under the table and pulled his jeans back on, fumbling to fasten the button. Lightning grabbed her shorts and yanked them up. "Where the hell is my shirt?" she growled. "God dammit."

The front door opened, flooding the foyer beyond with light. On reflex, Lightning turned towards the doorway, then realized too late that she was still topless, and covered her breasts with her hands. She was hungover, maybe still a little drunk, and trapped like a deer in headlights as Snow walked in.


	5. Lightning, Snow, Hope

**Notes: **Classes started up again in addition to work, giving me only one full day off, so updates will be slower from here on out. I am trying to avoid going months like I did before, it really just depends on how stressed out I get this time around! Anyway, enjoy.

**5. Lightning, Snow, Hope**

"What the fuck?" Snow said.

Lightning stood, frozen, as Snow walked into the living room, taking in her and Hope's half-dressed forms and the alcohol on the coffee table. In an instant he was across the room, slamming Hope up against the wall, his fist connecting solidly with the younger man's face. Hope staggered to the side with a yelp, grasping his face.

"_Snow!"_ Lightning shouted, grabbing his arm. "Stop it!"

Snow spun around to look at her. His eyes lit on her breasts and the small bruises on them, and he turned away, his face disgusted. Lightning went to Hope, who had slid down the wall to sit. She brushed his hair away from his face. His cheekbone was already starting to swell._ Just as his other bruise was fading_, Lightning found herself thinking. His green eyes met hers for a moment, and she couldn't quite read his expression. He pulled his head away from her hand, looking down. Without a word, he handed her the shirt she'd flung off the night before. She took it, standing and turning away from both him and Snow, and pulled it on.

"Don't be modest for our benefit," Snow said derisively.

Lightning turned back to him, folding her arms over her chest and lifting her chin, but there was nothing she could say, no high ground she could take, moral or otherwise. Hope needed taking care of, she knew, but there was nothing she could do while Snow was staring at her with something very close to hatred. It was an emotion seldom seen on his face.

"You got drunk with a kid and then fucked him," Snow said flatly.

"I guess so," Lightning answered, a thread of defiance in her voice for the sake of being defiant, if nothing else.

"Was it good?" he asked Hope, sneering. "It looks like you two had a good time."

Hope glared up at him through his hair. His eye was starting to swell shut. "Fuck off."

Snow ran both of his hands through his hair. "Jesus christ, Lightning. Is that your prerogative? Keep someone in your bed? Anyone? Or," he continued, raising his voice, "maybe that's why you won't be with me. Because you can't sleep around."

"Snow."

"Or maybe I'm too old for you? You need some high schooler to keep it interesting. Is what you did even legal? Of course letting him drink isn't, but - "

Hope made a angry sound behind her. "Punching a kid in the face isn't exactly legal either, so shut your fucking mouth," Lightning retorted.

"No," he hissed, stalking close to her. "You made him a man last night, didn't you? Did _you_ like it, Light? I'm sure his awkward virginal in-expertise hit your sweet spot." He gestured to one of the hickeys that was visible on her chest, swelling above the shirt's low neckline. "Did you tell him to be rough with you? Did you tell him to treat you like a pain slut, just how you like it?"

Hope stood up. "Don't talk to her like that."

Snow gave a harsh laugh. "Or what?"

"Or nothing," Hope replied. "You have no right to talk to her that way."

"You're a fucking joke," Snow said.

"She's not yours," Hope retorted. "She's not your girlfriend, she's your fiancé's sister."

Snow's face purpled with rage. "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Leave him out of this," Lightning said. "I'm the one you're angry at, Snow. So let's talk."

"What the fuck is there to talk about? I turn my back for two seconds - "

"This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't left!" she snarled at him. "You fucking ran away from me and my problems because you couldn't handle it. "

"I ran? Are you kidding me? I have been at your side for the last two years, as hellish as you've been determined to make them…"

"Fuck you," Lightning hissed. "You have no idea what I've been through. Nothing I did was ever on purpose."

"You never offered an explanation," he said, his voice suddenly soft. "And it still hurt me all the same."

Lightning fell silent. She stared up at his face, then looked away. Hope moved away from the wall and strode up the stairs, slamming the door to his bedroom. Shortly thereafter, she could hear the shower start running.

Snow sat couch, burying his face in his hands. Lightning dropped her arms and watched him uneasily. After a moment, she reached out to touch his shoulder, but he jerked his head up suddenly, and she recoiled. In a swift movement, he swept everything off of the coffee table's surface, and the bottle and glasses fell to the floor, shattering. Not content with that, he flipped the table itself, and it crashed against the TV stand. Lightning watched him mutely, hugging herself.

"Why, Light?" he asked, staring ahead.

"I don't know," she murmured.

"I told you I love you. Didn't you believe that?" Snow turned his head to look at her, his eyes searching her face.

"You left."

"I said I was _coming back!_" He screamed the last two words, so loud that is voice seemed to reverberate through the room.

"So did Serah."

That stopped him. He dropped his gaze, blonde hair curtaining his face. Lightning stood in front of him. She ran one of her hands through the length, and he turned his face into the caress. She took in the fall of his wheat blonde hair, the icy blue of his eyes, the honeyed tan of his skin; and the shape of his nose and lips, the cast of sorrow on his fair features.

Dammit. She wanted him. She did. She couldn't help it, couldn't help but feel her very essence calling for him, as if he was the errant half of her soul, even with the scent of another man on her skin. All she had to do was give in and become whole.

"What do I do?" Snow whispered.

"I don't know," Lightning said honestly.

Snow grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away from his face. "I'm leaving again," he said abruptly. "And this time, I don't know if I'll be back."

"Don't," Lightning said. "Please, don't."

"Why not?"

"I need you."

Snow laughed, and it was a despairing sound. "You found someone else to tumble into your bed quickly enough, didn't you?"

"You think I just want to keep you around for _sex_?" she asked, incredulous. "Don't be an idiot. I could care less about that. The other night was the first time I've had sex in a long time. Years. Both of us know that."

"Maybe, and then you became a wreck after," he said. "Jesus, Lightning, why? Was I too rough? You asked…"

Lightning bid him to silence with a finger to his lips. "None of that is why," she said shortly.

Snow pushed her hand away. "Then why did you fuck Hope?"

"I didn't mean to!" she shouted at him, her anger flooding her in a red hot tide. "I was fucking upset because you left, and I didn't know if you were really going to come back or not, so I coped the only way I knew how. I didn't wake up that morning going, 'yeah, I'm gonna fuck seventeen year old, that's really gonna solve my problems.' I was really drunk and I did something really stupid and I'm really fucking sorry about it, and not just because you found out. And I undoubtedly fucked him up in the process."

"Fucked him up? He probably had a great time. He just fucked the hottest girl he will ever have sex with in his life time."

"Yeah, I'm sure he had a great time last night when he was drunk or drunker than I was. If he even remembers it. But some of the things you do at night look a lot uglier in the light of day."

The expression on Snow's face gave away that he didn't understand, so Lightning didn't bother to push it any further. "You wanna know why having sex with you turned out to be the worst decision I ever made? Because I betrayed the only family I have. You don't do that."

"She's _dead_. She's not coming back, she - "

"It doesn't matter if she's dead or not! You don't fuck your sister's fiancé, under any circumstances. Even if you guys mutually broke up, it wouldn't be acceptable."

"Yeah, I get that you're real fuckin' sentimental about this, Light, but I promise you, the dead don't care what the living do."

"How can you not feel any guilt?" Lightning asked. "You loved her."

"I did love her. I loved her more than anything." Snow reached out and grabbed the collar of Lightning's shirt, yanking her down to his level. Their faces were only inches apart. "And when you love someone that much, when they leave, it breaks something inside you. You know how I feel, Light. You know exactly how I feel."

She stared into his eyes. She did know.

"Remember what I said the other night?" he asked her. "That you don't try? I still stand by that. You're too busy atoning for _something that wasn't even your fault. _What happened to Serah was not your fault, but you still wanna beat yourself up about it, even years later. You're right, I don't know what you've been through. I don't know what you did or saw on Pulse. I wish you would open up and tell me, because I would gladly share that burden with you, because I love you. I won't pretend to know what happened. But I do know that Serah dying is not your fault. And whatever's between us isn't wrong, Light."

* * *

Lightning looked at him like she was drowning. "I want to believe you," she said.

"What's stopping you?" Snow loosened his grip in her shirt. She sat back on her heels, looking down and away from him. He saw yet another bruise on the side of neck, and fought the urge to murder someone (Hope). It was a marvel that they were even having a semi-calm conversation on the heels of what he'd seen this morning.

_I should leave. I should pack my shit and go and never look back. _

But he couldn't because he did love her.

"Because there's still that slim chance that she's alive, Snow," she whispered.

"We've already had sex."

"Having sex is one thing." She turned her face back to his. She reached out and brushed an errant lock of hair out of his eyes. "Falling in love is another."

He drew in a sharp breath. "Do you love me?" he questioned her.

Lightning watched his face. "Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I don't know," she answered. "I'm worried that I will." She gave a self-deprecating laugh and shook her head. "Snow, why? Why couldn't we continue the way we were?"

"Because I've never been good at lying about how I feel," he murmured. "And it's the next logical step, isn't it? After those months of being in your bed…it's hard. It's hard to pretend that I just want to platonically cuddle while we sleep."

She shrugged one shoulder. "Now what, though? You're going to leave again."

"I'll stay if you give me a reason to, Light."

She looked at him. "What?"

"Love me," he replied. "Or try."

He held his breath as Lightning studied his face thoughtfully. After a moment, she said, "You'll stay if I try."

"Yes," Snow answered, exhaling. "I'll stay as long as you try. And…" He glanced towards the ceiling. "He needs to go, Lightning."

Her face hardened. "I'm not kicking him out."

"Lightning - "

"No," she insisted. "I can't. He starts school in a few days, I'm not putting him on the street."

"You don't have to put him on the street. You can report him to the authorities. They'll put him up somewhere. He's not our responsibility."

"Don't ask this of me, Snow," she whispered. "I can't abandon him."

His throat felt impossibly tight. "But you'll ask me to feed and shelter him even though you had sex with him. Are you serious?"

Lightning opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. "I don't ask you lightly," she finally said.

"You ask me all the same. God dammit, Light." Snow stood up abruptly and walked across the living room, stepping carefully over the broken glass, and going to look out of the sliding glass door over the deck. "This is insane." Another summer storm was about to roll through, thunder growling in the distance as the sky flickered with lightning. A light drizzle dotted the wooden boards of the deck. He rested an arm on the glass and pressed his forehead against it.

_If Hope wasn't here, this shit wouldn't have happened. We'd be able to be together, or at least fuckin' try._

He felt Lightning at his back.. Her fingers curled in his t-shirt. And he was suddenly angry again. He whirled around and grabbed her shoulders, holding her away from him. "Really?" he snarled. "You wanna touch me when you still smell like another guy?"

Lightning stared up at him with that defiant spark in her eyes, but that wasn't what he noticed. He noticed how her lips parted slightly as his fingers dug into her skin, could see her pulse jumping in her throat. It both horrified and compelled him.

"God," he whispered. "Why? Why do you like this?"

"We are shaped by our experiences," she said quietly. "Aren't we?"

Snow moved a hand under her shirt then, fingertips brushing over the rough scars on her back. She made a small sound under his touch. He pulled her against him then, knotting a hand in her hair and yanking her head up roughly. He kissed her, bruising, and she yielded to him, lips parting under his, tongues brushing, and he loved it. He loved that he could do anything to her and she would take it. In that moment, he didn't care that she tasted like stale alcohol, or that she had hickeys on her breasts that weren't from him.

He shoved her up against the wall and kissed her again, pinning her arms above her head with one hand, his other hand sliding down her vulnerable skin of her throat. Her breath hitched, and he moved his hand down to the collar of her shirt. He used both hands and tore it open, then moved to pin her arms again. Her breasts rose and fell as her breathing quickened, and Snow had to close his eyes for a moment. He sought to find himself, to bring himself back from the brink. _She just had sex with someone else. It probably wasn't even twelve hours ago. His come is probably still inside her._

That did it.

Snow opened his eyes again and stared down at her. She was watching him, still held in place, but offering no resistance. He released her as suddenly as he had grabbed her. He was suddenly disgusted, turning away. _I was really gonna fuck her and she was going to let me. God in heaven._ "Clean yourself up," he mumbled. "I have to go to work. And before you freak out, I will be back."

Lightning looked like she was going to vomit herself. "Sure," she said presently. "Have a good day."

* * *

_What would you think of me now, mom?_

Hope pressed his face into his knees as he wrapped his arms around them, squeezing his eyes shut. The pressure turned the darkness behind his lids into a riot of colors and stars, to wormholes he sped through at warp speeds. His fingers dug into his arms and his head throbbed and his stomach roiled.

Perhaps that was one of the things that bothered him the most, how disappointed his mother would be in him. At the same time, he was grossed out at the fact he was even thinking of his mom and the fact that he'd had sex for the first time at the same time. Or maybe that was normal, but it didn't seem normal. Nothing that had happened this summer had been normal. It didn't matter, because his mom was too dead to care what her only son did with his life anymore.

In spite of being drunk, he remembered everything about last night with painstaking clarity; how could he not? He remembered how he thought he was going to come just from her touch alone, remembered begging her to stop before he did just that. He recalled how he couldn't keep his mouth off of her, especially once her bra came off, how_ good_ it all felt. And the actual sex…he groaned aloud at the memory.

At the sound of faint tapping on the bedroom door, Hope lifted his head. Even that sound sent shockwaves of pain resounding through his head, bile rising in his throat. He made a small acquiescing sound and Lightning walked with a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. She was freshly showered and clothed, the shirt she wore hiding most of his handiwork, and her hair hiding the rest.

She set the articles down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the futon, studying him. "Holding up alright?" she asked.

"Sure," Hope said. "Real great."

"I'm really sorry, Hope," she told him. "I never meant for any of this to happen. It was incredibly stupid and reckless of me. You should've never had to deal with this shit."

Hope folded his arms atop his knees, then rested his chin on them. "I wish I could go home."

Lightning watched his face. "If you want to leave, you can," she said at length. "Or if there's something you want me to do, someone you want me to call…I'll do it."

"Leave and go where?" He laughed bitterly. "I have nothing. Might as well fuckin' stay." He shifted his gaze to her. "Besides, what would happen to you?"

"If your concern for my well being is the only thing keeping you here, you might as well go," Lightning told him dryly. "This is basically my life."

"I like you, Lightning. Of course I'm gonna worry about you, I just…this is too much. It's all too much." He hid his face in his arms, digging his fingers into his arms. "I am just a dumb kid."

"You aren't dumb," Lightning said. "But you're right, it's too much." She got off the futon. "If you need anything, let me know."

"Wait."

She looked at him over her shoulder.

He took a deep breath. "Last night…do you...?"

She turned around and came back to him. "Move over," she said. He obliged in silence and she sat beside him on the futon. "You aren't okay, are you?"

Hope turned his face away, and she wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He resisted at first, then finally allowed himself to be drawn into her embrace, his head tucked under her chin. "I never wanted this," he whispered, his voice breaking.

"I know, Hope," she said, smoothing his damp hair away from his forehead. "Me either."


	6. Hope

**6. Hope**

"Oh my god. Is that Hope Estheim?"

"When did he get so_ cute_?"

"Shh! He can hear you, idiot."

Hope ignored these comments, his chin raised, eyes forward. He stalked through the school corridors like a zombie, pausing only to exchange a book at his locker. Even the teachers seem to falter whenever their gazes lit upon his face. They all knew him or knew of him, as small as the school was, and he'd gone through much of his academic career with his favorable aptitude preceding him. He was the kind of kid teachers wanted in their class. "Was" being the operative word.

Last year, Hope would've been embarrassed at his classmates newfound appreciation for him - embarrassed, but pleased. Now, it failed to move him. He absolutely did not care what they thought of him.

He was different now.

A hand on his sleeve startled him from his reverie as he stared into the depths of his locker. He blinked and looked down at a short blonde girl, who was smiling broadly at him. "Hope, right?" she said. "Hope Estheim? I'm Alyssa Zaidelle - you might remember me from the school newspaper last year?"

He did remember her, actually. He remembered having an enormous crush on her, specifically. "Sure," he replied nonchalantly.

Her face faltered slightly, but only slightly. "I, um, was wondering if you were going to join again this year?" she continued.

"No," he answered flatly.

Her startled blue eyes blinked. "No? Why not?" she asked, pouting. "You were such an asset last year! I'm the editor now, you know."

"I didn't know," he said. "But I gotta get to my last class."

"At least think about it?" Alyssa pleaded, eyelids flickering, long lashes fluttering against her cheeks - certainly a charming tactic she must employ often.

"Nothing to think about," Hope said. "See you around, okay?" He slammed his locker shut, locked it, and walked away.

An asset, sure. All of those boring, shitty articles he'd squeezed in time for between all of the assignments his honors classes required of him about god knew what anymore. Cafeteria renovations? Parking lot potholes? He'd been an asset in writing the stupid crap that no one else wanted to, maybe. _They can find some other sucker who wants to fill up his academic resume so badly._

The late bell chimed as he came up outside of his last class, the door already shut. He glanced through the window; the student closest to the door gave him bemused eyes. After a moment, Hope turned and continued to walk down the hall and out the door that led to the rear parking lot.

Another student was just outside under the covered walkway, one hand cupped around a cigarette as he fought to light it against a strong gust of wind. Finding success, he took a deep drag. He glanced at Hope, smoke leaking past his lips.

"Estheim," he greeted amiably. "You have early release?"

"Sure," Hope said. "The same sort you do, Noel."

Noel Kreiss smirked slightly. "Look at you," he said. "Hope Estheim, skipping class. Your mom would have a coronary." Seeing Hope's expression, his smile faded.

"My mom died," Hope said curtly.

"Oh, shit." Noel blanched. "You're not serious, are you? You are. Dude, I'm _so_ sorry - "

"Don't worry about it," Hope cut him off.

"So your dad must be back around or something, yeah?"

"No. Noel, I need your help with something."

"Me?" Noel tapped out the ash of his cigarette. "What could you possibly need my help for?"

Hope lifted his head and looked around, brushing his windblown hair away from his eyes. The parking lot was empty, but he wasn't taking any chances. "Did you bring your car today?"

Noel was looking at him curiously. "Yeah," he answered. He stubbed his cigarette out against the walkway's railing, flicking the butt into a nearby trashcan, then leading the way to his only slightly worn out truck. Once inside, he turned to look at Hope. "Now what?" he asked, only a little suspicious.

Hope dug around in the bottom of his bag, and produced a brick of cocaine.

"Holy hell!" Noel startled, staring at the package in Hope's hands. "I mean…that is a _respectable_ amount of coke."

"Yes," Hope agreed.

"Jesus christ, Hope, where the hell did you get that? I mean…" He peered into the other boy's green eyes. "Are you using that shit?"

"What? No. I…um…found it."

Noel furrowed his brows. "Hope…"

"And I need you to get rid of it for me," Hope continued.

"What? _Me?_ Why?"

"Oh, please," Hope said derisively. "Like the whole school doesn't know that you sell pot - "

"Yeah, that's fuckin' weed." Noel gestured. "Dude, you could be murdered for that shit. That is a whole 'bother level. That's at least forty grand right there. Where the fuck did you get it?"

Hope raised his brows. He hadn't actually been aware how much it was worth. He stuffed it back into his bag.

"Hope." Noel was studying his face. "What the hell happened to you this summer? Your face is all bruised up, you have several thousands of dollars worth of drugs in you goddamn backpack…"

Hope touched his jaw lightly. He'd thought the bruise had yellowed enough that it wouldn't be noticeable, but perhaps not.

"Did you find it or steal it?" Noel pressed.

"I found it," Hope answered. "And found out later that the owners were looking for it."

"Goddamn." Noel dragged his hands down his face. "Is that who fucked up your face? You are really lucky you aren't dead, man."

"Those bruises faded awhile ago," Hope said wryly. "This one was a different incident."

The brunette shook his head. "This is not good."

"I'll give you a cut."

Noel paused, then eyed him. "How much?" he asked eventually.

Hope shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know," he said. "This whole drug dealing shit is new to me."

"It should stay that way," Noel mumbled.

"Half," Hope said decisively. "If it's really as much as you say it is, that should be enough of a incentive."

Noel stared him, his blue eyes wide.

Hope folded his arms over his chest. "You don't have to," he said at length.

"I could get shot for this shit, dude," Noel said. "I'm not kidding."

"I know," Hope murmured. "I know."

After a moment Noel let out a breath. "Okay," he said. "Fine. Let me do a little…research, and I'll get back to you. Okay?"

"Fair enough," Hope answered.

"But you tell me what happened to you since last school year," Noel said, pointing at him. "Because this is a huge departure from the Hope I went to school with for the last twelve years who was a total mama's boy and a teacher's pet. _And _tell me where exactly you found that shit so I don't wander into them and get my spleen taken out."

Hope sighed, sinking down in the cracked leather seat. He propped his knees up on the dashboard, playing with the fraying sleeve of his sweater. "Reader's digest version good enough?" he said.

"Whatever."

"Okay. Well. Started with my mom dying. She'd been sick awhile with cancer, and then…yeah. I guess the hospital was trying to contact my dad, and I..."

"So who are you staying with?" Noel interjected with an arched brow.

"No one," Hope said. "I mean. People. Not…relatives."

"How did you wind up with them? Where's your dad, man?"

"Maybe if you would stop interrupting me every five seconds I could tell you."

Noel sat back, folding his arms over his chest. "Okay, go."

"When she died, I was…" Hope turned his palms face up on his thighs. "I dunno. Distraught. I freaked out. The nurses told me to go back home, to get ahold of my dad, and they were going to try too, because they needed someone to make arrangements for the funeral. I went home for a little while, and then the hospital called me asking if there was anyone else I could find to make arrangements. I don't know any, so I just…I left. I packed my shit and ran away." The corner of his mouth quirked. "Sort of, anyway. I was still in New Bodhum. But I guess I left just in time, because a couple days later I went by my house and cops were there."

"Probably looking for you," Noel said quietly.

"Maybe." Hope shrugged one shoulder. "So I haven't been back since."

"And your dad is MIA?"

Hope's fingers curled into fists. "Per usual. Not that I care. I don't want to live with him." He blew out his breath. "All I gotta do is get through this school year and then I can start working. And if this works out…" He gestured to his bag. "I'll have something to start with."

"Hope…" Noel shook his head, his shaggy locks curtaining his face. "This isn't good. You should really get in contact with someone. Your dad is probably worried about you. Besides, I'm sure your mom left you stuff in her will."

"I don't want it," Hope said decisively.

The other boy gave him a weird look. "Why?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," he muttered.

Noel opened his mouth to retort, then shut it, looking pensive. "Okay. Well, tell me the rest, I guess. Like where you found that shit."

"I was sleeping in random places for most of the summer. In alphabet city. One of the last places I was in was stashed with the stuff. I knew it went for a lot of money, so I took it. It didn't take long for the owner to catch up with me. If the cops hadn't come through, I'd probably be dead." He touched his cheek absently. "And then some girl picked me up off the street basically. I've been staying with her since."

Noel blinked. "That's…something, I guess."

"Yeah," Hope said wryly.

"Just keeping some old lonely woman company, huh?"

"What? No." Hope laughed at the absurdity of it. "No."

"Is she hot?" Noel asked with mild interest.

_Yes._ "Sure."

"Did you bone her?"

Hope opened his mouth, then quickly shut it. Noel's eyes widened.

"No!" he said with a disbelieving laugh. "You? Dude, I didn't think you had it in you. I thought you'd be one of those guys who ended up a wizard, or something."

Hope raised his brows, his face bright red. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's when you hit thirty as a virgin. But…" He gave Hope a speculative look. "I saw how that Alyssa chick was looking at you, man."

"Whatever," Hope mumbled.

"How old IS this chick, anyway? I mean, is she into cradle robbing or something? Is she your sugar mama?" Noel laughed.

"Can we not talk about this?" Hope said, pressing his fingers to his temples.

Noel looked over at him, his brows furrowing. After a moment, he said, "Fine, fine. If that's how you want to be." He pulled back his sleeve and checked his watch. "Well, school will be officially over in five minutes," he remarked. "You want a ride?"

Hope was about to accept, then shook his head. "Nah. I'll walk. I have other stuff to do."

"If you say so," Noel said. "Be careful walking around with that shit in your back, though."

"I will. Thanks." He jumped out of the truck. "Keep me updated."

"Yep." He gave a little wave, the wristband of his watch sliding down his bony wrist. "See you."

* * *

He wound up in front of his old house.

The yard was overgrown, especially in comparison to the neighbors' yards on either side, which were both recently tended to. The shrubs that lined the walkway to the front door had long lost their shape; grass had grown straight through them. The flowers that his mother had so painstakingly cultivated against the house were either dead or dying. The house itself looked the same, except for the distinct abandoned feeling, even disregarding the shuttered and boarded windows.

Hope walked up the stone pathway and onto the front porch. The wooden chairs that had decorated it were gone, perhaps stolen. The potted plants hanging from the porch's ceiling were all in various states of decay as well. His mother had really loved to garden.

He looked around. The street was quiet. It had never been a neighborhood with many children, something his mom had lamented while he was growing up, afraid of her son lacking playmates.

He went around to the back of the house. The grass whipped and clung to his pant legs as he walked. The backyard seemed even worse than the front; he remembered, then, that he'd always skimped on cutting the grass in the back, since the fencing prevented anyone from seeing it anyway. He stepped onto the patio, freeing himself from the tangled growth, and went to the back door, which proved to be locked. Hope dug around in his bag before procuring a lanyard with the house key on the end of it, and unlocked the door.

The interior was simultaneously stifling and sweltering. The kitchen was barren, except for the counters and shelves. All of the furniture and appliances here had been taken too; he could see through the door way that the dining room also empty. A fine layer of dust covered the surfaces of everything else, including the floor.

And there were footprints - not his own.

He saw an envelope on the countertop.

His name was written on the front of it in familiar handwriting. He inhaled sharply as he picked it up and turned it around, undoing the seal and drawing out the folded letter. The paper was fresh; it had not been here overlong.

_Hope,_

_I do not know if you will ever receive this letter. I don't know if you plan on coming back to this house. But I had to try, since I have no other means of contacting you. You left your phone, and the neighbors had no idea of your whereabouts. And apparently, you have no friends to speak of, who would know either. _

_Whatever lies between us - enmity, perhaps, on your part, or maybe even hatred - you are my son. You will always be my son. I can only pray that you will find this somehow, and be in contact with me soon. I just want you to be safe. I will answer any questions you may have honestly, and I'm sure you do have them. Only know that I did not mean to leave you and your mother hanging as I did._

_I thought about leaving word with the school, if on the off chance that you would attend your final year, to let me know. But I decided to leave the choice to you. If you do not wish to ever speak to me again, I won't force it. I hope that you find this letter and decide to._

_All of my love, _

_Dad._

At the bottom of the letter was his father's phone number and address.

He didn't even realize he was crying until he tasted the salt of a tear as it dropped onto his lips. With shaking fingers, he folded the letter shoved it into his bag. He ran out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it hurriedly.

He sprinted all the way home. He was soaked in sweat by the time he clattered through the front door, panting. He caught sight of his face in the mirror in the foyer, damp tendrils of hair clinging to his reddened cheeks, lips parted as he wheezed. _Wish those girls from school could see me now,_ he thought bitterly. _They wouldn't being calling me cute anymore._

"Hope?" Lightning asked as he stormed up the stairs past her.

He slammed the bedroom door in Lightning's face, catching only a glimpse of her bewildered expression before locking it.

"Hope," she said, her voice muffled. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" he yelled, throwing his bag on the floor and pulled off his school sweater.

He heard the knob rattle as Lightning tried the door, futilely. "Hey," she said. "Talk to me. What's the problem?"

Hope sank onto the futon. "Nothing," he repeated. "Light, please. Just leave me alone."

He heard her walk away then, without another word, and let out his breath. He grabbed a pillow and covered his face with it, groaning.

He hadn't seen or talked to his dad in three years. It had been two since his mother and he had lost all contact with him. It had been like his father had dropped off the face of the planet. And now he was back…and looking for him?

Hope pulled the pillow away from his face and put it behind his head, tears leaking unbidden from behind his closed lids, soon drifting into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

_Lightning sat up, reaching one hand to him, running her fingers through his hair. Impulsively, he turned his head, laying his lips on her bruised wrist. Hope heard her sharp intake of breath. _

_And suddenly she was pulling his head towards hers and kissing him like he'd never been kissed - not that he'd ever actually been kissed, aside from the pecks shared with his middle school girlfriend - and he could taste the alcohol on her breath, but he didn't care. Her lips parted under his, and their tongues touched. _

_"You're beautiful," Lightning murmured, pushing his hair away from his neck and kissing along the skin of his throat. Hope didn't answer; he couldn't. His breath was coming so fast, he felt like his body was going to combust. Where her lips touched, his skin felt like it was on fire. Her hands moved down his stomach, brushing the front of his jeans. _

_"Light," he said, his voice trembling._

_"I know," she said, thumbing the clasp open and unzipping them. Her hand slid inside his boxers, and he moaned. Lightning kissed him again, then trailed her mouth to his ear, biting down on the lobe._

_"Are you a virgin?" she murmured, and he shivered._

_"Does it matter?" Hope asked in return._

_The answer seemed to satisfy her, though it was no answer at all. Her mouth was on his again, her fingers sliding around his length. He moaned against her lips, pressing himself into her. Lightning withdrew her touch abruptly, and he opened his eyes to look at her as she lounged back against the couch._

_"Come here," she said. Hope obliged her, moving to straddle her hips. He lowered his head to kiss her again, but this time he let his mouth run down her throat and into her cleavage. He hooked a finger into one of the cups of her bra, exposing her breast; his lips brushed a nipple and she made a small sound. Her hands slid into his hair as his tongue flicked against it. _

_"Yes," she sighed._

_"Sit up," he said roughly, and she did, lips finding his again. His hands went around her back, fumbling at the clasp of her bra. The straps slid from her shoulders and she took it it off, flinging it over the back of the couch. His hands cupped her breasts as they kissed, his arousal pinned against her belly._

_"Fuck me," she said breathlessly. "Hard, Hope, please. I want you so bad." _

Hope's eyes flew open, his breath catching in his throat. His room was almost totally dark; checking his watch, he realized he'd been asleep for almost three hours. His hard-on was chafing in his jeans. He made a disgusted sound as he sat up and pulled them off. He needed a shower.

A loud slapping sound came from across the hall, like something hitting a wall. Hope paused, a sick feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. He still opened the bedroom door.

He heard Lightning gasping from inside her room, then moan. He heard Snow grunt. He felt like vomiting.

"_I can fucking hear you!_" he yelled. The sounds ceased immediately, and Hope retreated back into his room again, slamming the door.


End file.
